Photographs & Memories
by sugarapplesweet
Summary: A young girl searches for what has been lost while ending up losing herself in the forest. When a kind woodsman comes along to help her, the two begin an emotional journey that will lead to happiness. A fluffy, autumn three-shot for a forum contest.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This three-shot will be written for the contest on the Village Square Forums. The theme for October is Autumn, and since it's my favorite season, I'm really happy to enter. Well, here goes _something_! XD

**Disclaimer: **The title for this three-shot came from the Jim Croce song of the same name. I don't own Jim Croce or any HM characters which is very sad indeed...

--

_What a lonely season_, the young woman thought sorrowfully to herself as she walked along a forgotten forest path. She wondered vaguely why it was that the vibrant leaves always remained on the trees while the ones beneath her were always a muddy brown. Grass had long since overgrown the ridges where carts, hooves, and feet once passed through in great numbers. She tried to imagine herself among them during that distant time if only to help ease the pain of being on her own. She never liked having just herself for company, so even the illusion was a comfort.

From her ratty old clothes, a black sweater and washed-out denim jeans, both worn and torn with age to her brown eyes as dead as the dull leaves beneath her feet, she looked ragged from her journey. Her soft brown hair, almost as rich in darkness as the earth, had been hacked away which left it chopped and jagged around her cheeks and barely brushing the back of her bare neck. She had considered leaving it long for the cooler months to help keep her warm, but having few bathing opportunities on her travels, she'd learned to keep herself simple.

Just as she considered this, her stomach growled bitterly. The reminder was strong enough to cause her to cringe, clutching at her tiny waist, but she knew there was nothing she could do to ease the hunger. Fall may have been the season of the harvest, but not owning anything save for the clothes on her back and the memory in her pocket, she had no share in the bounty.

The young girl had never learned to forage for edibles in the wilderness although it was certainly a troubling fault given she hadn't a penny left to her name. Still, she'd managed to live for so long with so little that she wasn't worried in the least. She'd make it, somehow...

Just as she was about to ready herself for a pep-talk, she happened to catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. It was a mushroom though not big by any means, but it was still food. At least, that's what she was hoping. She studied it from a distance before coming close and crouching down beside the fungus. It wasn't red and white like the ones she'd been warned about, but she had a nagging thought telling her it wasn't meant for eating.

However, she was far too hungry to fret over that detail. It was either she poison herself or she deal with starvation. Being that she'd enjoy living longer if only for a moment should she eat it, she opted to set her caution aside, and once she'd plucked it from the ground, she consumed the slippery thing in one cautious bite.

"Not... _too_ bad..." she tried to convince herself, cringing at the slick texture in her mouth. At least she might be able to find something more satisfying in the time it took for the mushroom to settle, and in the end she figured that was all that mattered. By then she could-

The pain abruptly returned in the next instant, and her hand returned to her waist desperately clawing at her hunger. However, she had a feeling this was... different... some... how...

Without warning, she found herself caving as she folded up onto the ground. A small gasp of surprise was all she could manage before the world began to fade into a blurry darkness. She thought distantly, _I think I'm fainting... or... maybe..._

_--_

_...I'm dying..._ she finished at last, feeling a sense of warmth wrapped around her where there had been the autumn chill what seemed to only be moments before.

"So you're comin' to, eh?" a deep voice asked. It echoed thickly in her mind as she began to stir. If only she could touch it, she supposed it would feel just like velvet. Reaching out her small chapped fingers, she brushed against something rough and bristled which caused her to sit upright quickly, wanting to know how such a smooth tone could come from something that felt like... _that_.

A large man was crouched beside the bed, his gray eyes filled with a gruff sort of concern. He looked just about as ragged in his soiled t-shirt and jeans as she was, but there was a big difference. If they were in what she assumed was his home, then he had far more than her. She hadn't had a place to call home in a _very_ long time, almost too far in the past for her to even remember... Of course, the truth lay in _if_ she wanted to at all.

"What'd you do to pass out like that out?" he asked roughly, his muscular arms crossed over his chest once he was upright. She blinked at him dumbly; seeing his bushy beard, she realized that had been the bristly sensation she felt when she reached out to touch his voice. "You didn't eat some them toadstools, did ya?"

"Are they all white?" she murmured while she rubbed the sleep from her eye.

"Figures..." the man muttered though it came out as more of a growl. "Don't you know those are poisonous?"

"I'm alive, aren't I?" she shot back, more sharply than she intended. But her rescuer just gave her a gravely chuckle in response. When he smiled, she felt herself relax some, and her guard faltered. He wasn't going to hurt her after saving her, she reasoned. "So... am I gonna be okay then?"

"Yeah," he assured her, composing himself a little although he shook his head at her foolishness. _Kids these days wandering around the woods without a clue..._ "The poison is more of a sleep-inducer than anything, so you should be fine."

"Oh, I-"

Just as she was about to tell him why she'd eaten it in the first place, her stomach decided to explain _for_ her. The disturbed sound was enough to catch the man's attention, and he raised a bushy eyebrow before asked her casually, "You want something to eat, I reckon?"

"Ah, no, that's-"

"Nonsense!" he bellowed as he broke into a heartfelt laugh like rolling thunder. "I'll fix ya up somethin' good! Just you wait!"

--

"So, what'd ya think of my cookin', girly?"

"It was delicious!" she cheered happily washing the dishes. She had insisted on it after he'd been so kind as to offer her dinner. She was just some troublesome kid, really, and he _certainly_ didn't owe her anything. It was the least she could do to take care of the mess. It was also another way for her to play house for a while. A part of her had to admit she would love living in the warm cabin out in the wilderness. There was something... special and homey about the exposed wood and caulking.

"Good. Stew's _just_ the thing to fill you up," he agreed, putting the dishes into the cupboard tenderly. He smiled as he did so, running his finger idly around the rim of the smaller plate she had used. She found it peculiar that he'd been so determined for her to use it when there were two larger place settings which they could've used, one for him and other for her. Still, he was her host, so she did as he asked.

"You know, I've never had it before now..." she told him shyly. "I really want to thank you, um..."

"The name's Gotz."

"Right. I'm..." she hesitated with some obvious embarrassment, "Charity." It had been a while since she'd had to tell anyone. For the most part, she wandered in the outskirts of communities, so she rarely came into contact with other people. When she did stumble upon a town, she chose not to speak to any of the residents, for she'd found that she didn't need to say a single to word to get what she needed. One would be surprised with how much people tended to throw away.

However, the woodsmen hadn't wasted any bit of the dinner from what she noticed. The green ends of the carrots went into a small container on the counter where she recognized other organic materials from the kitchen like potato skins, banana peels, apple cores. She vaguely knew it was for compost, but looking around his home, there was very little for him to use it on, save for a few plants scattered throughout the home.

"The farmer up the way likes to use natural fertilizer," he explained as he caught her staring at the odd assortment. "I usually fed the stuff to the deer and other forest critters, but as long as it's not being wasted, I don't worry about it none."

"Is is just you and the farmer, then?" Charity asked quietly, drying off the last plate of the night.

"Heck no!" Gotz roared. She had to smile although she was clearly blushing as well. That laugh of his was so genuine that she couldn't help herself. It made her feel safe and warm on the inside. "This here's a whole town, missy!"

"Oh..." she sighed, wringing her hands in a towel. Somehow, she would've preferred it with just a farmer and a woodcutter, but it would seem she'd have no such luck. Reluctantly, she looked up at the large man who dwarfed her tiny frame. She couldn't remember her father, but the fellow at her side seemed to be that sort. When she'd dream of having a father, she imaged a man very much like the one beside her. But this was a town... and that meant she wouldn't stay.

Charity loved the outdoors although she wasn't very good at surviving out there. She had learned how to fish with her bare hands, but she didn't really know how to prepare them with just her pocket knife. Cutting her hair was one thing, but the blade was far too dull for cleaning fish. That was the only reason why she'd found herself in Gotz's home. If only she could've afforded a hunting knife... but then she'd have never met him which was a very sad thought. She truly did admire him already.

"Don't worry about it none. It's a small little place," he assured her gruffly. "More of a village than anything."

"Everyone must be really close, huh?" To live in such a tight community would be even harder for her to bear. She didn't want to be the talk of the town, after all. Every place had a gossip or two, and she didn't want to be their main target, the poor ratty girl taking advantage of the man living on the outskirts of the village...

"Sure. But I don't spend much time there. I go up to the market on Saturdays, but that's only because I don't want 'em to forget I'm here. Otherwise, I'd be outta work!" The bear of a man began to laugh again while sitting down in his easy chair. She smiled seeing the cushion nearly swallow him whole as he leaned back. If it weren't for his heavy boots, she figured his feet wouldn't touch the ground.

"What's your job then?" she asked, sitting on his bed. Although she had protested, Gotz had made it clear that's where she was going to sleep for the night. Charity had tried to convince him she'd be okay sleeping outside, but he'd warned her about the wild dogs that ran through the wilderness after dark which had quickly ended _that_ idea.

"I'm a carpenter," he explained proudly, closing his old eyes. "'Bout the only person who needs my services these days is that farmer boy, though."

"You must get along with him," she observed, starting to get groggy herself.

"Jack's a good guy," he said at last, his breaths evening out as he drifted to sleep. "You'll see him around soon enough."

Her eyes were heavy as she began to doze off under the warm blankets. The smell of him was strong, like the dampness of the leaves and the crisp air of the outdoors, and she found it was pleasantly comforting to snuggle deep within them. Her host began to snore after a short time, but she enjoyed as she did the rest of the place. She couldn't explain it, yet a part of her was more than happy to be there with him as if it had been this way for far longer than a mere day or two. Charity was at home although she felt in her heart it couldn't last.

Nothing in her life ever did...

--

"So what are we doing, exactly?"

"I need to find us dinner for tonight, and _you_ need to learn your edibles, little lady."

"Aw, come on, Gotz! I can handle myself," Charity pouted, a small brush of scarlet across her freckled cheeks. The man just laughed at her expression, shaking his head. She let loose a small giggle, too, knowing full well how bad she really was at taking care of herself since no one _else_ was passing out after eating the wrong mushroom. That _she_ knew of, anyway...

"Good morning!" a voice broke through the trees. The pair turned to see what the girl assumed to be Farmer Jack making his way over to them by the lake. He was kind of a tacky sort with his blue overalls and reversed baseball cap, but when Gotz smiled, she found herself smiling, too. If the woodsman thought he was alright, she couldn't find any fault with him, either.

"Mornin', Jack," he greeted the fellow. His voice was a tad stiff, but it seemed it was his way of greeting people, whether he cared for them or not.

"Who's this?" the young man asked, pointing at her while he returned the smile. He was a bit taller than her, but he was far shorter than the carpenter. She was slow to realize his hair and eyes were much like her own, yet after she did, she found she couldn't look at him without her cheeks starting to warm. It was too embarrassing... even for _her_...

"Charity... At least that's what she tells me," Gotz introduced her gruffly.

"Glad to meet you, Charity," Jack offered his gloved hand which she took shyly. She really liked how his voice was smooth as melted chocolate, but that thought only made her blush further. She was reluctant to see him turn to leave so soon although she couldn't understand for the life of her as to why. "Well, I gotta get to work out here then, so I suppose I'll see you at the Harvest Festival?"

"Of course! I wouldn't miss a chance to eat food like _that_!" Gotz bellowed happily, slapping the farmer hard on the back. The poor girl had to stifle another giggle at how the boy winced at the impact. She reasoned the woodcutter didn't know his own strength though he seemed to use it frequently. However, just spending a night with the older man made her feel more at ease like she didn't have to worry about things anymore. After all, a secure man like himself could easily protect her.

Maybe that was a selfish way to think... She certainly couldn't stay with him forever, being that there was a... promise.

An _invaluable _promise she still had to keep.

--

"What'd ya think of Jack, little missy?" Gotz asked the young woman at his side jovially. She blushed, glancing down at their fresh harvest of mushrooms and truffles they'd spent the morning gathering together, when he brought up the young farmer. Although it'd only been about a half a day since the two saw him, she found she couldn't keep him out of her mind. There was something about him that made her feel he was a very kind man. He certainly _seemed_ to be the caring, generous sort.

"He was nice," she confessed, sheepishly looking away from her companion, "but I don't really know him, so I can't say whether I like 'im or not..."

"That's good," he observed thoughtfully. "If you liked everyone right off the bat, you'd be more helpless than ever." His voice sounded strangely disappointed while he praised her, or so she thought. Charity happened to realize quickly that maybe the carpenter misunderstood her for saying she didn't like _him_, so she tried her best to assure him otherwise. She _loved_ the man...

"I know it sounds a little strange for me to say so, but I do like _you_, though," she began quietly before her words picked up speed. "I mean, you're like... the papa I never really had, you know?"

She was surprised to sense the man stop dead in the middle of the forest path leading to his home. His eyes were so full of a deep sadness, she wasn't sure if she should even try to touch it. However, she recognized what lingered there, for it was a part of her own heart at well. The feelings of regret, remorse, and loneliness were hidden in the grayness of the windows to his soul, and she had to wonder what she had said to trouble him that terribly. When he caught her worried gaze, he gave her a soft smile.

His large hand patted her head gently. "You can call me... 'Papa' if you'd like, little missy..." Gotz relented at last. He couldn't hide the smudge of scarlet across his own cheeks, however.

"Really?" Charity whispered, her brown eyes shining with relief and excitement as she returned his smile.

"I-I'd like that very much," he confessed, laughing nervously. She could still see a hint of hurt in his gaze, but there was a warmth, too. That in itself was a happy thought, and she found she wanted that feeling to grow inside him until the pain was all but gone.

Of course, she knew there was enough pain in her own heart, but she had chosen to seal it all away. She put all that suffering into one thing, her very own treasure, and as long as it remained locked inside of it, she had convinced herself she'd never have to face it ever again. Even so, life rarely goes as planned, and secrets are almost always shared...

...whether we want them to be or not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Ugh, and I thought _one-shots_ were hard! I don't know why, but I struggle to fit a plot into just a blurb. I mean, it usually works out, but I always end up wanting to drag the story out longer. That's why these chapter's are so lengthy, I guess. Anyway, please enjoy!

--

"Missy, how old are you anyway?" Gotz asked the small girl beside him. The two were finishing up breakfast, yet neither one of them had spoken that early morning since it seemed both were wrapped up in their own thoughts. It was very unusual, nonetheless, and that was precisely why he had to end the silence. Of course, it was both the silence between them and his own mind that he concerned himself with.

"I'm... sixteen," she replied softly, trying not to wince at the taste of her own lie. Charity wasn't accustomed to speaking to people, let alone know how to fib, but she didn't want the man to worry any more than he did already. After he had given her permission to call him Papa, he seemed to be very concerned about her, and he would watch her carefully during their walks together. He had done so in the beginning, but she noticed he was doing it with increasing intensity.

"Aren't you a bit young for traveling on your own then?" he pressed, handing her the plates from the table.

She thoughtfully began to stack the dishes with only the clinking of fired clay between them. It was a commonly asked question which should've made her accustomed to it by then, yet she continued to avoid it. Maybe if Gotz hadn't cared for her so earnestly, she might've felt more at ease in explaining herself. However, the words simply wouldn't come to her in any fashion, lies _or_ truths.

"Don't worry," he assured her, scratching the back of Charity's hair soothingly, "Your papa won't ask again until you want to tell me."

The girl merely nodded, her brown eyes dull and distant once again, as she pushed back the memories into a dark corner of her mind. She wasn't quite ready to delve into it with anyone, much less herself, and since he had offered to let her, she would hide it inside herself. No, it would be much better not to concern herself with it at all, and one day, she hoped, the memory would fade all together. She nodded firmly once more to be sure to keep her resolve.

"Jack was asking about you, you know?" he chuckled at how the farmer's name perked Charity right up out of her self-induced slump. "Being you're about his age, you could ask him to the Moon Festival. It'll be coming soon..."

"Why would he wanna know about me?" she wondered aloud while washing another plate. A young man like_ him_ couldn't possibly be worried about some like _her_ since she was so plain, and he was so easily wonderful in comparison. The warmth of his chocolate eyes made her tender heart melt to even _think_ about them, and yet he was asking about _her_... with her dull eyes like dying leaves...

"He wanted to know why you didn't join me at the Harvest Festival last week. I reckoned he missed seeing you," the man remarked, still smiling at the rosiness of her cheeks. He held the small plate gingering in his hands, briefly crestfallen. However, once he felt Charity's gaze settled on him, he chuckled and shook his head slowly.

She was also smiling although hers hadn't faded. Gotz had been kind enough to bring her home some of the stew, and it _was_ delicious, even more so than his own. She reasoned it was simply because they had to use the various roots and tubers they foraged in the forest. As for why she hadn't gone to the event, it was understandable. She was afraid of drawing unwanted attention to herself. In her mind, the longer she kept out of the public eye, the better. Not only for her own well being, but she also had no intentions of causing trouble for the woodsman.

From what she'd heard from Jack and Gotz, the town had a notorious gossip. The woman meant no harm, they explained, yet neither one of the men denied she might have started a nasty rumor or two. Charity had to be cautious towards, if not amused by, this woman.

It had been hard to keep her identity a secret since nearly everyone in the village made their way to Mother's Hill at _some_ point during the week. Whether it be the local doctor on a Wednesday or that family on Mondays or those two girls every morning, someone was nearly _always_ there. Luckily, no one had come to visit the carpenter after her arrival, and although Gotz was disappointed to know Harris, the town's constable and his closest friend, had chosen the company of a lady friend over him, the girl found it to be a relief.

"Why don't you go see him?" he suggested, placing the dishes up on the high shelf which she couldn't reach. He had never done so before, but she didn't notice that. Her mind was filled with wonder as to why he would tell her to do something so... _bold_.

"But, Papa," she protested, grateful he didn't flinch as she said it like he had in the beginning, "what would I say?"

"You don't need to get all fancy about it," he laughed, ruffling her hair. "Just ask! Jack's a straight-forward fella, so that kind of thing suits him!"

--

"Papa better be right about this..." she grumbled shyly to herself. Charity couldn't believe what she was doing, going to Jack's farm to ask him to the most romantic festival of the season. Local legend said that a kiss under the harvest moon of autumn would ensure a couple's happiness. What would she do if he said no? She shook her head quickly. _No, don't even think about that..._

She thought it was strange how insistent the older man had been for her to invite the young farmer. However, she supposed if he was a parent, maybe this would be how he went about things. He certainly was good at encouraging her in all sorts of things, like learning how to wield an axe (which was a bit too heavy for her) or finding out which mushrooms were safe to eat. He'd been so happy to see her bare-handed fishing skills, and as a reward, he'd even shown her how to clean a fish with a proper knife. In almost every way, the woodsman was her father.

Just as she was about to take joy in this, she happened to look up. Her eyes lit with wonder as she gasped, "Wow... Is this really Jack's?"

The impressive farm stretched into the distance ahead and to the west of her, and she couldn't help but be in awe of the expansive property. Although the crops were low in the fields, she had no doubt they bore quality produce, and she was certain the livestock and chickens in the pasture were thriving as well. Charity had guessed that Jack was a good farmer from what Gotz had told her, but she didn't expect... _this_.

"Nice, isn't it?" a familiar voice asked happily at her side. She jerked her head quickly to see the farm's owner at her side, and he had an amused look on his face along with an soft smile. He had caught her off-guard, much to his secret pleasure, she was sure.

"Oh, um... Jack..." she began, trying to look away from his eyes, only to manage a glance at the bridge before gazing back at him. Her cheeks were getting warm... Moving from place to place left little time for, or purpose to, having crushes, but she most certainly had one on _him_ of all people. To be honest, though, he _was_ the only other besides Gotz she had even met from the town, yet she liked him all the same. It was sort of hard not to since he seemed so sure of himself while being gentle at the same time...

At least, that's how _she_ liked to think about it.

"Yes?" he asked, dragging it out a little which made her cheeks redden deeper.

"I... uh... wanted to ask you..." she started before trailing off into silence once again.

"Mm-hmm..." Although Charity knew he was well aware of her question, he continued to wait for her to come out and ask. It was strange for her, however. As was established, she hadn't the time for crushes, so that meant she'd never been on a date, either. She really wasn't sure how to go about the whole thing...

Her large, brown eyes pleaded with him to be the one to ask. Wasn't that how it was supposed to be done anyway? From what she knew about these kinds of things, _he_ was the one to ask _her_ out on a date, so she wondered if it was too much to hope he'd understand. He quickly caught on and began to laugh. It wasn't as deep or rugged as Gotz's roar of thunder, but it was pleasantly warm in her ears which she enjoyed just as much.

"Let me ask you this then?" he offered, that all-knowing smile still parting his chapped lips. "Are you doing anything for the Moon Festival?"

"Ah, no, that is... I..."

"Then how about going with me?" he asked, jabbing his thumb towards his chest.

"S-sure," she agreed with a small grin. "T-that would be... great..." Although her cheeks were still warm, she was relieved to be able to breath evenly again. Jack really could be a charmer, she decided with some giddiness.

"Feel better?" he teased, ruffling her hair as her papa did. His smile was more of that of a cheeky rogue, seeing her so embarrassed, but she found she absolutely _loved_ its playfulness. She nodded and with formalities out of the way, the two began to talk excitedly between themselves late into the afternoon.

--

"Slow down there, missy!"

"Papa," she cried out, "I'm gonna be _late_!" She was already late, and the young girl knew she was supposed to have been at the top of Mother's Hill by six. Though it was already half past which had thrown her into a panicked frenzy, Gotz seemed determined to keep Jack waiting for her. She had to _go_.

"Charity," he warned in a stern tone, taking her wrist firmly in his grip. She blinked a few times, surprised to see him acting so serious. His gray eyes were stormy, yet she could plainly see a terrible dread in his heavy gaze. She relaxed, realizing his troubled concerns for her. "Be careful... when it gets dark. Have Jack bring you home, okay?"

Solemnly, she nodded in agreement. The hurt was still in his face, but the woodsman kissed her tenderly on the head and ushered her out the door. The sun hadn't set, so he encouraged her to hurry before night fell over the forest. She did just that although she couldn't help but remember all the pain she saw in him. Vaguely, she worried if she should leave him alone for the night, or maybe she needed to cancel her date.

But, as often is the case, young love won over family, and she soon hurried off to the peak of Mother's Hill.

--

"Sorry I'm late, Jack," she apologized while taking a seat next to him. "Papa was worried about something, I guess."

"It's alright," he assured her with a soft smile. "I knew you were coming." They sat side by side while the moon slowly began to rise overhead. Silence rested between them for a time before he spoke again. "See those lights over there?" he asked cheerfully as he leaned closer to her ever so slightly.

"Mm-hmm." Charity was still blushing terribly as she sat close to the young farmer. He was being so nice without knowing a single thing about her, but she couldn't help but wonder how he would treat her if she told him her story. Would he continue to like her? She was too frightened of possibly being rejected to ever tell anyone, let alone him. Therefore, she let him lead the conversation.

"That's Flower Bud," he explained, pointing into the distance where the lights of houses flickered like stars. "And over there," he continued in another direction, "is Forget-Me-Not Valley."

"I can barely see it," she complained, straining her eyes. She could _just_ make out an unearthly glow near the horizon, but he insisted it was there.

"Forget-Me-Not is a lot smaller than Flower Bud and Mineral Town, but they've got some of the most unique characters living there."

"Have you ever been to the valley?" she asked earnestly. Although she had done so for many years of her young life, she enjoyed hearing someone else tell stories of their travels. It made her feel welcomed in their company because she could tell her own tales, too, without being an outcast.

"Yeah, quite a few times actually. My cousin, Jill, has a farm over that way with Takakura, one of my dad's friends."

"Farming's a family thing then, huh?"

"Not really..." Jack admitted with a confused expression. "My property was my grandfather's, so I just inherited it. Soon after he passed away, my uncle did, too, and that's when Jill ponied up and took the place over. We just fell into farming, I guess, since it wasn't like we _planned_ their deaths or anything like that."

"It... must've been hard for you..." she mumbled quietly, drawing her knees up close to her body. "I... I know what it's like... to lose... not one, but _two_ people you care about..."

"Maybe you shouldn't share it wish me then," Jack replied flatly, clearly unfazed by his own tragedy. She merely stared wide-eyed at the young man as she simply couldn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about not only his uncle's death but his _grandfather's_, too. "You should probably tell Gotz. Yeah... That's a better idea than telling someone like me."

"But... why?" Charity asked, furrowing her slender brows. Maybe he was stranger than she originally thought given how peculiar he was being about the whole thing.

"Gotz would probably understand. After all, he- Wait, I'll let him be the one to tell you. That way you can tell him your story, too," he reasoned, only giving the girl about half of the conversation inside his own mind. "And, why we're at it," he kept going, not even offering her a chance to share her opinion on all that was decided _for_ her, "you should come to the church tomorrow after everything with Gotz is sorted out. Reverend Carter would be-"

"C-church?" she finally interrupted, much to his obvious displeasure. "Why the church?" It wasn't as though she didn't have faith, but there was... _someone_ they made her remember. That _someone_ was a thing she didn't care to think about since thinking about them made her heart ache all the more. Whenever she stepped into a religious sanctuary, she found she wanted to bolt right back out from where she'd come only moments before. She was frightened of them...

"Oh," he thought for a moment, "because there's someone you should meet. He's a bit quiet, but he's more talkative now after I found him a job last year."

"Where does he work?"

"The winery," Jack answered matter-of-factly. Glancing over at her to see a disgusted expression wrinkling her nose, he began to laugh. "Don't worry, he's not a drinker. Now _Duke_'s the one you'd have to worry about. You should've seen how Karen-"

The farmer rattled off about the town's residents happily as his companion for the night stared longingly up at the moon. She vaguely recalled a legend her older brother once told her, and while she wasn't sure if she even_ wanted_ to remember to begin with, the memory came all the same. _Don't they say you can see a rabbit jumping when you look into the moon?_ Charity tried her very best to see it, but much like the time she was a child, she simply couldn't see anything in the dark patches on the silver surface.

She supposed there were just some things that were to remain hidden. After all, she had kept so many secrets tucked away inside her that she was surprised she'd never be free of them. Like that rabbit, they couldn't always be found, but that didn't mean they weren't there.

--

At last the night began to draw to a close, and the two started for home. She let loose a sigh as she realized she hadn't had a chance to give the young man a kiss. How could she when he was talking like the mad man the entire evening? That thought made her giggle a bit, and she was grateful Jack hadn't managed to hear it since he was too busy rambling on. She wondered for a moment if he simply liked the sound of his own voice, or maybe...

"Jack," she said confidently. "I'm home now, you know."

"I know," he shot back, turning around with that cat-like grin of his. However, she knew better than to believe him. He'd taken her to the corner leading into town which was past the sturdy cabin before she finally stopped him.

"Thank you," she whispered, blushing as she took note of the moon still hovering over the forest. It wasn't the most romantic spot, unlike Mother's Hill, but...

Charity nabbed a quick grasp of his wrist, and although she missed his lips, she planted a small kiss on the young man's cheek. She nearly laughed as she felt him go stiff with shock. When she pulled away, she saw the confused daze in his eyes and on his face. _He never saw it coming_, she thought excitedly.

After she made it to the door to her new home, she glanced back at her date. Jack was still standing there, dumbfounded, although he'd managed to put a gloved hand to his cheek, and she simply waved at him, letting a giggle slip. She had been right. The boy was just as shy as she was that night, but better than that, Charity was assured the love was meant to last. She _had_ kissed him under the Harvest Moon, and that meant something, right?

--

**Final Author's Note: **Sorry if anyone hoped Gotz was a romantic interest, but this isn't the story for that. I wonder if anyone's caught onto what I'm trying to do here...


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** The final chapter of this three-shot is now complete! Anyway, I had a hard time trying to fit this whole plot into three parts, but I did my best. I was surprised that this was such a challenge for me since I just wanted to jump into the contest for fun... Enjoy!

--

Charity had spent the next morning with Gotz in relative silence. Although she spoke when spoken to, she kept to herself while foraging. Jack's words were still ringing in her mind. _"Gotz would probably understand_," he had told her,_ "After all, he- Wait, I'll let him be the one to tell you. That way you can tell him your story, too."_ That's what he had said, but how could she possibly do it when she had no reason to? It was an uncomfortable subject for her without it being brought up out of nowhere.

She studied the woodsmen carefully from behind as she considered what to say. However, she couldn't really bring herself to speak, even quietly, about the matter. He had been asleep when she'd come in the night before, or so it seemed, yet he was unusually tired. His broad shoulders slumped forward while he shuffled his feet on their way through the forest. Yes, there was certainly something wrong though she couldn't put a finger on it.

"Hey, little missy," the man's gruff voice brought her out of her thoughts suddenly which caused her to jump. "Sorry 'bout that," he chuckled; she simply blushed. "I've got something that I think belongs to you..."

The girl's face paled considerably when he said this, and her slender hand instinctively went for the pocket of her worn jeans, only to find it was empty. Her brown eyes widened, expressing that the worst of her fears had come to pass._ He found it_... she thought desperately, feeling the tears making their way down her soft cheeks.

_"_Wh-what is it, Papa?" she managed to choke out before realizing he was holding an old photograph in his large, calloused hand. She made a grab for it, but he pulled it away just out of reach. His gray eyes watched her carefully with her eyeing the object longingly.

"Could you tell me who these people are?" he asked gently as he could manage with his naturally rough tone. He handed her the image while she nodded weakly, her fingers reaching out gratefully. She sighed inside herself once it had been safely returned to her. How could she have possibly lost it? It was _never_ parted from her, for it had been the only thing holding her together before she met this man. She _needed_ it more than anything or anyone... unless she happened to find that _someone_.

Sitting down together on an aged tree stump, he eased her onto his lap while she mumbled something or other. Her lips trembled as she began quietly, "I don't know what I should say... really. I've never told anybody, so..."

"Just start by telling me who they are, I guess," Gotz suggested lamely. She had a feeling he was just as afraid as she was about the whole ordeal, so she took a deep breath to calm herself down. When she let it out, she continued to shake violently, however.

"Well," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly, "that's me." The figure she pointed to was a small girl; however, the child wasn't nearly as thin or frail as the older version of itself. Her hair had once been very long, two braids on either side of her head draped down over her chest and around her waist, and she was wearing a delicate dress. She explained further, "That was my favorite dress. It was a pale yellow with white lace, but of course you can't really tell since the photo's so beaten up."

Charity had to giggle at that statement. There were creases cutting through everything, even the faces, from the years she had carried the photograph with her. It had survived through rain and snow as well as a few accidental washes in a river or two, but she didn't have to see it to know what it meant to her. She couldn't even remember that day it had been taken by the photographer although she supposed what was must important were the people in it.

"That's my mother..." she bit her lip as she said it. "You know I never knew my father, right?" she asked her face turned to his briefly.

Gotz nodded slowly, his grip on her waist tightening a bit. "She's beautiful," he said at last. Though she couldn't be certain, he looked like he was upset seeing her mother.

"Yes," the girl agreed, "she was." Her mother certainly _was_ a lovely woman. Her hair was the same rich brown as her daughter's although there she had noticeably lighter tips. She wasn't very tall and a bit on the petite side, but her facial features were delicate and soft. Unfortunately, her eyes had been lost in the folds, but according to Charity's memories, they had been a deep chocolate. Her dress matched her daughter's, in every detail, and both of which were hand-sewn.

"_Was?_" he asked solemnly, choking on his own question.

"Mm-hmm. Momma died soon after this picture was taken... That was about... four years ago, I think, when I was ten."

"Didn't you say you were _six_teen," the man scolded her, chuckling to himself.

"Er..." _Crap. He caught me,_ she thought bashfully before admitting, "Yeah... I just..."

"It's fine," he assured her with a warm smile. "I figured you were lying. You aren't that good at it, really."

"Right..." she returned his smile, a hint of pink on her cheeks. "Well, I guess Momma taught me right being that she took my big brother and me to church nearly _every_ day. At the very least, I won't be lying again anytime soon."

"She was a devout woman then?"

"I think so," she guessed, not having ever asked her mother during her life. "Jack invited me to go to church with him today, but..."

"He's still doing farm work at this hour, so let's worry about that later. Now tell me about that boy. I assume he's your brother, right?" Gotz pressed eagerly.

"Uh-huh..." she relented. The girl had been hoping her papa would've forgotten him. "He was eight years older than me, but he was only a bit taller than me as you can see." Her eyes glanced to see the carpenter was following along. "I didn't like him all that much, to be honest. He was _always_ picking on me when we were growing up. If Momma caught him teasing me, she'd make him cut his own switch, though," she remembered with a cruel, light laugh. The boy's hair was identical to their mother's though his was cut shorter back then than Charity's was at the moment. He was wearing a stiff suit, much to his noticeable displeasure, she observed.

"Why aren't you with him then?" the man asked curiously, readjusting her on his knee which was beginning to fall asleep.

"Because," she began, her eyes misting again at the memory, "he left Momma and me as soon as he could. He wanted 'to see the world,' I guess."

"Did he know about... your mother?"

Charity shook her head, trying (and failing) to keep herself from crying. "No..." she squeaked, wiping away a few tears. "Momma died of phenomena a couple seasons after he ran off... He _couldn't_ have known..."

"Then..." he trailed off, holding her closer to him. The bristles of his bread scratched her face irritably, but she didn't pull away. She felt safe there against his broad chest, held by his strong arms, because she knew it's what a father would've done to comfort his child. It was strange to know that even with her mother gone, she felt she'd been looking for a father. Did that make her selfish?

"Father Mitchell took me in because my family was... gone," she whispered as if she were telling a secret to the older man, "but I... I ran away. I just wanted to find... my brother, I guess, and..."

"I had a wife and daughter once," the woodsman interrupted her, bring her even closer. "They... passed away only four years ago, on the mountain here." The young woman gasped slightly before he continued a moment later. "My wife... she looked very much like your mother. Pale skin, dark eyes and hair..."

Charity nodded slowly as she listened to his heart. It beat steadily, not picking up or slowing down, and she likened it to time ticking on. Even when there's hurt, the universal clock never stops.

"You... missy," he mumbled, bringing her out of her brief thoughts, "are just like... my own little girl, you know."

"Really?" she asked quietly, her eyes growing wide as she gently eased out of his hug to look at him. Large tears were rolling down his face as well, and she wondered how he must've felt when he found her laying in the wilderness. Did he think, even if only for an instant, that _she_ may have been his daughter? It was no surprise he had been so shocked to have her liken him to a father. Was "Papa" what his child called him, and had he called her "little missy" when she'd been alive?"

"Absolutely," he reassured her, giving her a faint smile. "She'd be the same age as you, too."

At last, her tears overflowed completely. The girl threw her arms around the man's neck as she began to sob. "Papa..." she cried into his already dampened shirt, "Papa, I-I'm sorry... I'm s-so sorry..." He held her lovingly, rubbing his large hand up and down her back to soothe her while she cried for him. They stayed that way in the forest until she simply drained herself completely, and even then, he carried her home in his arms while she drifted off to sleep, exhausted by the wave of raw emotion. His face was tender as he did so.

--

"Is it really alright for me to join you two, Jack?"

"Come on, Gotz, it's fine by me!" the young man laughed, his hand shyly in Charity's own. His cheeks were still slightly scarlet from when she'd taken it without an explanation; of course, her own face was a light shade of pink as well.

"Besides, the Goddess really doesn't care _what_ you look like, so you'll be fine!" she agreed in a chipper voice. The tear stains had long since dried although her eyes were a bit red and puffy yet. The farmer had asked her if she'd been crying, yet she was quick to skirt around the subject. She found she may have been terrible at telling a lie, but beating around the bush was more than effective... at least with _him_.

"Hey, little missy, are you sayin' I don't look like dressin' up sort to you?" the carpenter teased, giving her a wink.

She laughed away his joke happily while they made their way through the Town Square. The women there turned to face the trio, yet Charity only counted two. Neither of them fit the description of the legendary town gossip she'd heard about though it was quite obvious that's what they were doing. Jack happened to follow her gaze, and he told her casually, "It's Saturday, so Manna'll be at the church to hear the evening sermon with Duke and that fella I was telling you about the other night."

The girl nodded contently upon hearing this. Even so, she was sure that the women in the square would be just as quick to spread the word that she had been seen with Gotz and the young man soon enough. Their eyes looked hungrily at them as if they'd spotted fresh meat for the rumor mill.

The thought simply made her cringe and concentrate on the road ahead of her as they passed briskly by.

--

When the town's small church came into view, Charity felt her chest tighten considerably. There was something inside meant for_ her_. Whether it be a sign from the Goddess or not, she just _knew_ it. Her heart began to race with every step, and she could feel her grip on Jack's hand grow stronger...

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly. He noticed, too, apparently.

"Yeah... I'm nervous is all..." she admitted shyly, her brown eyes still focused on the door of the sanctuary. What was inside that she needed to see so _desperately_?

"Over what?" he pressed, his own brown eyes filled with concern.

"This guy I'm going to meet..." she reasoned as it slowly came to her. All she knew about him was he had a story similar to hers... and he worked in a vineyard. That was all she'd been told, but she couldn't shake the feeling that this would be a very _important_ meeting. It didn't make any sense though the anticipation was all but _killing _her inside.

Just as her companion was about to assure her everything would be alright, Gotz happened to push open the doors to the church. Charity blinked when they came into the snug, dimly lit chapel. However, once her sight adjusted, she found it was a quaint, but elegant, place. The windows on either side were rather small, yet behind the pulpit at the back of the sanctuary, there were three, towering stained glass windows made of all kinds of brilliant glass through which a cascade of light shone through.

Although the pastor smiled to see his sermon would be heard by a few unexpected visitors, he continued to preach in a soothingly peaceful voice. If her papa's tone was like that of velvet, this holy man spoke in silk! A gentle tug on her hand let her to the front pew, and she followed the young man who held her fingers tenderly.

Charity assumed the woman with the black hair and shawl was the town's gossip, for her head instantly swerved to get a better look at the newcomer. She pulled on the sleeve of, what her target assumed was, her husband's white sleeve and pointed eagerly. The man in the purple vest hushed her calmly which led her to cross her arms and pout. She was a bit childish, but the girl thought she appeared to be very kind.

However, Charity's attention was soon grabbed by someone _far_ more attention grabbing than a housewife with too much time on her hands. When she happened to catch a glimpse of him, her breath was stolen away, and she stopped dead in her tracks. She could feel both Jack's hand slip out of her own and her mouth fall open slightly, but either action meant little to her then. Her whole being was wrapped up into that _one_ person in the next pew over from theirs.

"C-_Cliff?_" she gasped, almost in a whisper. The young man lifted his head from prayer as he heard his name being faintly called. His brown eyes met her own, matching them perfectly, and he blinked in bewilderment before recognition shone in his gaze. They remained in a state of frozen surprise while they tried to evaluate one another and changes during their years apart.

His hair was no longer shaped nicely since he'd grown it out over time and tied it in a ragged pony tail, but the tips were still a light caramel, drastically different from his chocolate roots and the rest. _Her_ hair was no longer worn in two long braids after she'd cropped it into a shaggy pixie-cut. Their clothes were far removed from what they'd worn that day so long ago that neither one could remember it. He had been wearing a suit while she'd been in a dress. Now she wore an old pair of jeans and a faded, black sweatshirt, and he had dressed in animal furs.

Neither one was sure _what_ they could say to the other. However, they didn't have to wait for one of them to speak. "Do you two know each other already?" Jack asked curiously, glancing from her to him as he stood between them. The sermon had abruptly been stopped as everyone had come to realize the two staring intently at each other amid a lost of words, and the members of the church crowded around in mild curiosity.

"Um... _Charity?_" the young man across from her wondered aloud at last, his gaze fell to the floor as a small tint of red brushed his cheeks.

"Y-yeah?" she managed to squeak, her face warming, too. Had she been expecting him to be the same as when he left? she wondered. For that matter, did _he_ expect _her_ to be the same as well? There were so many questions, and-

"I-I'm sorry," he apologized shyly, turning his face up to the ceiling as if praying for guidance in the situation. After a few blank moments and an empty stare on her part, she almost let loose a giggle. When did he become so... introspective?

_This _is what became of the boy who used to tease her? _This_ was the same boy who cracked an egg over her head because he said he'd heard it would make her hair shiny? He seemed... different. No longer was he restless sitting in the church or kicking his heels obnoxiously on the bottom of the pew. He had been anything _but_ a choir boy, yet _now_ he appeared to be a saint! Before she'd said his name, he'd been bowing his head devoutly as he _prayed_.

"What's so funny?" Cliff asked sheepishly, lifting himself from his seat and coming towards her slowly.

"Just..." Charity began cautiously with a smile, "I thought... after all this time, I would never..." She had to pause to collect her thoughts until she could continue comfortably. It was too late, though, since her eyes had already begun to mist at seeing him again.

"Please don't cry... um... sis," he begged, reaching for her arm tenderly. She imagined he felt she might break apart or fade away if he touched her, and even _she _wondered what would happen should he do so. However, she was tired of waiting for this moment, and she wrapped him in a stiff hug until he relaxed and she sighed from relief. All time stood still as she held him after four long years apart.

_I found you, brother... I found you..._

--

**Final Author's Note:** Urgh... The ending seemed _so_ rushed, but I didn't want to make this over 3,000 words. It would feel like cheating if I did...

Did anyone guess Charity was Cliff's sister before this chapter?

**Important Notice:** I'm _kind of_ early on this, so be sure to read _all_ the entries for the autumn contest. You can find details as well as other author's entries on the Village Square Forums under Contests, and voting will take place after October 31 (Halloween). Please be sure to vote for your favorite stories because there are going to be a lot of great writers involved!


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